the bows.

He informed me that the car had moulted its winding handle.

"You'll 'ave ter push 'er till the engine starts, Sir," said he.

"Oh, will I? And what will you be doing, pray?" I inquired. He replied
that he was proposing to sit inside and watch events, steer, work the
clutch, and so on.

"That sounds very jolly," said I. "All right; hop up and hold your hat
on." I went round to the stern, set my back against it and hove--there
seemed nothing else for it. Five hundred yards further on I stopped
heaving and interviewed the passenger. He was very hopeful. The engine
had given a few reassuring coughs, he said, and presently would resume
business, he felt convinced. Just a few more heaves, please.

I doffed my British warm and returned to the job. A quarter of an hour
later we had another talk. All was well. The engine had suffered a
regular spasm of coughing and one back-fire, so the child informed me.
In half a jiffy we should be off.

I shed my collar, tie and tunic and bent again to the task. At
Notre Dame de la Belle Espérance we parleyed once more. He was most
enthusiastic. Said a few kind words about the good work I was
doing round at the back and thought everything was going perfectly
splendidly. The car's cough was developing every minute and there had
been two back-fires. All the omens were propitious. A couple of short
sharp shoves would do it. Courage, brave heart!